


Please Don't Make Any Sudden Moves

by hirusen



Category: MatPat - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, natewantstobattle, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Animal Therapy, Anxiety Attacks, Bathing/Washing, Body Worship, Bubble Bath, Caretaking, Childhood Trauma, Clinging, Dehydration, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Language, Fear, Filming, Flashbacks, Forehead Kisses, Forehead Touching, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Gentleness, Hair Washing, Hand Kisses, Holding Hands, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Kissing, Languages, Late Night Conversations, Living Together, M/M, Male Bonding, Male Friendship, Mark Hands Control Over To Dark, Mark's Friends Makes Appearances, Massage, My Mind Is A Fucked Up Place, Neck Kissing, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Orphan Character, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Restraints, Scents & Smells, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Shopping, Skype, Slow Burn, Starvation, Touching, Verbal Abuse, Video & Computer Games, possible triggers, shoulder kisses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7527361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hirusen/pseuds/hirusen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark was enjoying the company of his friends when there was several hard knocks on his front door. What he saw, he'll never forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Escaped

**Author's Note:**

> Like I tagged, my mind is a very fucked up place.

He tried to swallow what little saliva he had down his very sore throat, his eyes rimmed red from tears and lack of sleep. The tape around his wrists was starting to hurt, his already raw skin getting pulled at by the adhesive clinging to him; the rope on his legs still tight. "Ready for another round, beautiful?" The sick man's voice rang out from behind him, a hand cupping his exposed ass and squeezing. "Please...just let me go..." The other scoffed at his plea. "There's no need to; no one's looking for you, after all." With that, he was forced onto his knees once more and he cried out in pain as the man thrusted into him, going hard and fast. "Oh, fuck yes. I love your tight little ass, beautiful." He said nothing, just whimpered in disgust and pain, wanting so desperately to move his body away from the hand that reached around his waist and started to stroke his penis, forcing his body to feel pleasure that he didn't want.

What seemed like hours later, the man came inside of the condom he had rolled onto himself, his gloved hand forcing his body to follow suit moments later. "Haaa...Haa...Ah, what a good boy. Tell you what? Since you've been such a good boy, I'm going to removed your restraints." "R-Really?" He wasn't sure if this vile bastard was just toying with him again, but much to his shock, he reached up towards his wrists and removed the duck tape, cutting off the ropes on his legs a few seconds after. "Your going to behave yourself while I'm out, right?" He nodded his head, not wanting to entice the man's flash temper. He recieved a smile and the sicko ran his fingers through his hair. "Good. I'll be back in an hour." The man said as he stood, redoing his pants, and left the abandoned hotel room, not bothering to lock the door behind him.

He waited 4...5...7 minutes went past, wanting to make sure that his captor had left before he sluggishly sat up, his arms trembling from not being used in so long. He shakily stood up, his whole body trembling as he pulled his underwear and jeans back into their proper place. He crept over to the only way in or out and pressed his ear against the wood, listening to the world outside for any trace that he wasn't alone; when he heard none, he flung the door open and booked it. He flew down the stairs leading to the parking lot, jumping to the concrete when he was only a few steps away from it, and raced away from the building. He needed to find someone, anyone. He ran and ran until a house caught his eye and he swiveled on his heel and made his way towards it.

* * *

Mark laughed warmly as he watched Nate own Jack in Mario Kart. "No! Oh come on! That's not fair, Nate!" Nate said nothing, just shrugged as his victory sounded on the TV. "Thanks for bringing the game, Matt." Matthew smiled at Mark from over the coach. "No problem. Besides, I'm going to get vengeance for you, Jack." Jack smiled at Matt, handing him his controller. "Bring it on, pal." Nate taunted, going through the list of tracks for the next race when there was a sudden flurry of harsh pounds on Mark's front door. "The hell..? Mark, are you expecting someone?" The man shook his head, straightening to his full height and walked over to his door. He opened it and the sight before him made him gasp. "Are you okay?!" His cry got the other's attention and they rushed to the front door to see what's going on.

The sight was horrific.

A young man with his eyes stained red, several gashes on his arms and face, numerous bruises in various states of healing on nearly every exposed inch of his body; he was shaking hard, total fear in his eyes. He glanced up to Mark and shook his head. "C-Can I come in? Please?" "Yes, yes." Mark ushered the boy inside, carefully placing his hand on his back as he lead him to the living room, knowing either Jack or Nate will close and lock the door. He walked around the smaller male, bending down a little so they were at eye level. "Who did this to you?" The youth remained tight lipped. "They aren't going to hurt you anymore. Can you please tell me who hurt you?" Mark was asking in a soft voice, trying to comfort the boy as best as he could. Matthew reached to place a hand on the boy as well, but he spotted his movement out of the corner of his eye and yelped, jumping back and backpedaling a few feet from MatPat. Everyone's expression softened even more. "...Has someone been hurting you like this for a long time?" Finally, the boy responded, nodding his head. "Th-They've also...r-ra..." He couldn't bring himself to say the word, but both Mark and Jack instantly knew what it was.

"Come here, sweety." Mark tenderly encouraged as he opened up his arms and the younger hesitated before he rushed into Mark's warm embrace. His strong arms coiled around the startling slender frame, holding him as tight as he dared given the boy's current state. "When was the last time you had anything to eat?" "...A while." Judging by how rough his voice had been sounding, he most likely hadn't been given water in a long time either. "Let me call the police and then I'll get you something to eat and drink, okay?" Much to everyone's surprise, he shook his head hard. "I...I don't want to deal with the police..." "What? But they need your cooperation to help put away the person who did this to you. I don't--" "I don't want to deal with the police! Please!"  ** _Mark be careful. He's starting to panic._** Though he didn't show it on his face, Mark was surprised to hear Dark's voice. "Alright. Alright. I won't force you to talk to them." Mark reassured the boy, gently tugging him back into his body and holding him. "...D-Do you have a camera?" Mark cocked a brow, but said that he did. "...I can give the police all the evidence they'll ask for." "But..." Nate started, but Mark knew what the youth was implying and raised a hand to silence him.

"My bedroom is upstairs. Are you comfortable being alone with me?" The realization washed over the others. The boy nodded. "Could...you please get some plastic baggies before we go?" Mark nodded, slowly removing himself from the other and pulled a few from the drawer. "I have some cotton swabs in the bathroom; I'll get some when we head up." The boy gave Mark a very weak smile, following him almost like a puppy as they went upstairs. In the bathroom, Mark grabbed a pair of latex gloves as well--they were in there because Ryan was trying to dye his hair a darker shade and Matt (not MatPat) was helping him--and lead the still shaking youth into his room. "I'm gonna close the door so no one walks in, okay?" He nodded his head, his eyes glancing around the room as if to memorize the layout and plan an escape route.  _Poor thing. He must have been though so much..._ Mark walked over to his recording set-up and grabbed the spare camera off the desk. "Let's start with the pictures." The younger male dipped his head, his eyes still holding fear. "It'll be okay. I'll make all of this quick, alright?" "...Alright." And so Mark started taking images of the boy's current appearance, making sure to get every cut and bruise that was on his exposed skin before he asked the younger to removed his shirt, which he was clearly hesitant about; Mark was voicing as much comfort and reassurance as he could, careful to avoid repeating words he seemed to have a reaction to. He removed his jeans, shoes, and socks before he was finally ready to remove his underwear.

Mark felt more and more vile and sick and like some kind of pervert when he was taking pictures each time the younger man in front of him removed an article of his clothing, but he had to keep reminding himself that he was only doing this because the kid didn't want to face the police, a response that still confounded him. "Okay, that's done. Now, you need to tell me where you want me to...collect the DNA samples." It was the only word he could think of at the time that wouldn't trigger the poor boy. The youth asked Mark to first get a sample of his own DNA by swabbing the inside of his cheek--the YouTuber doing so after he put the gloves on--and quickly put it in the plastic bag. He then got a sample from underneath his fingernails, one from each hand, before he took a nervous swallow and knelt onto one knee. "Just around it, not inside?" The youth nodded. With one hand, Mark spread the youth's butt cheeks apart and collected a sample from around his hole; the boy himself said that there might not be much luck finding a DNA match from any of the samples to the one who did this, but it was best to hand over as much evidence as he could for the cops. Once the last bag was sealed, Mark removed the gloves, tossing them into the trash, and quickly hooked up the camera to his computer; he selected the newest collection of pictures and started to print them out. At this point, the youth had re-dressed and had crumbled into a little ball on the floor. "Sh, sh. It's going to be alright." He hushed, slowly reached out to brush the back of his hand against the other's cheek.

As he tried to calm the boy, Chica padded up to the duo, her muzzle nudging against the boy's neck. He jumped at first, but it wasn't from fear, more like he was just startled by her wet nose on his skin. He turned to her and extended his hand, tenderly scratching behind her ear and a little smile popped onto his lips when he saw her tail start to wag. "Her name's Chica." "Hi, Chica. You're a very pretty girl." He cooed, letting his guard down slightly as he let her pad a little further into his lap. "I'm gonna put these in the fridge; are you going to be okay by yourself?" The boy nodded his head and Mark offered him a smile, leaving his room.

Everyone stood at attention when Mark came downstairs. "How is he?" "I'm not sure. He's with Chica and he seems to respond to her fine, so that's something." "Are those..?" Jack started to ask, pointing to the little baggies in Mark's hand. "DNA samples he asked me to take. I'm gonna see if I can't get him to write down everything that happened before he came here, give that to the police as well." The group nodded, their eyes drifting from Mark to the stairs that lead up to the most defiantly traumatized youth. "Do you think he'll get better?" "Honestly? I'm not sure. I hope he does, but...I just don't know." Mark went back up to his room and found that the boy's already beat him to the punch, a ball point pen in his right hand, a notepad on his leg; Chica's head was occupying the space of the other leg, his free hand occasionally reaching down to pet her head. Instead to interrupting the other's train of thought, Mark quietly walked over to his computer and checked to see how many pictures were left; turned out to only be 5 and they were finished quickly. Having the printed copies of the photos he took, Mark went into his camera's storage and deleted all of them off the memory card; he didn't want to have that on his camera and he didn't want the younger to stumble across them as he recovered. "You needed this, right?" He heard the younger man ask, a sigh escaping him. "I'm also going to need a name, dear."

After a moment to tense silence, the other glanced down at Mark's dog and gave her another scratch behind her ear. "Night. Night Fenice."


	2. Careful

Night was stroking Chica's white fur, seemingly unable to look at Mark. The YouTuber walked over to him, slowly reaching out and taking the notepad from the younger man. "Would you mind coming with me back downstairs?" Night glanced at Mark from the corner of his eye, a trembling fear within them. "I'm not gonna make you do anything, I just want to make sure that you're okay while I call the police." "...Can Chica come too?" Mark offered the other a gentle smile. "Of course she can." Mark stood up and extended his hand to Night, waiting from him to take it. Fenice was still shaken and clearly hesitated, but he did take the offered hand, using it to pull himself onto his feet. "Come on, Chica." Mark cooed and his golden retriever eagerly tagged along.

Jack and the others looked to the stairs as they heard footsteps and offered the young man with Mark a tender group smile. Mark lead him to the couch and let him curl up in the nook of one of the corners, allowing Chica to jump up on the sofa to join Night. "Keep an eye on him, okay?" He hushed to Jack before Mark got the phone and dialed 9-1-1. "Yes, I'm reporting a rape...No, not personally; he came to my home after escaping from his captor...No, not a statutory rape. He's defiantly over 18...Night Fenice...I'm not sure if he was; he's been in a state of hyper-vigilance since he's been here and he's not too responsive to any questions asked to him...Yes, there was clear signs of battery when he arrived, but based on his reactions, he might also be a victim of domestic abuse...Mark Edward Fischbach..." Mark then give the operator a number for the cops to call him back and his home address. The call ended a few moments after that.

"Night?" The youth tilted his head a little, showing he was listening. "The police will be here in 20 minutes. Are you sure that you don't want to talk to them?" He nodded his head and Mark heaved a soft breath. He had to ask one last time before he left it alone; the kid's been through enough already as it is and he'd rather not push things, especially considering that Dark of all people had warned him about an impending anxiety attack.  _What's up with you anyway, Dark? You're not one to be worried about anyone._ Mark felt as his evil half let out a sigh.  ** _I'm not, but...I can sense what this child had been through; the deep fears he hides so desperately from. It's...honestly concerning._** Well that's not a good sign. Mark padded over to Night and gently placed a hand on his shoulder; he jumped, but that was it. "I'm gonna start making you something to eat; did you want some water while you wait?" He nodded his head. "Okay." The instant Mark turned to go to the kitchen he found that Jack was already there, grabbing a glass and filling it with cold water. He walked to Night and knelt in front of him, offering the glass.

"...Thank you." He said as he took it, going slow at first, but was visibly grateful for the liquid. Mark, after seeing that Night accepted the drink, got a medium sized pot and filled it with water, putting it on the stove once he had filled it enough and waiting for it to start boiling; in the meantime, he was gathering ingredients and preparing them. While he wanted to make solid food for the poor youth, he knows doing so when he's clearly starved wasn't going to help anything and if he didn't want to talk to the police, Mark highly doubted that he'd want to go to the hospital. Several times has he was prepping and tossing vegetables into the pot, Jack had come back into the kitchen and filled the glass up again; at least he wasn't guzzling the water down. Just as Mark was making a bowl of his homemade soup, there were several knocks on the front door. Mark grabbed a spoon and took the bowl to Night. "It's still hot, so be careful." Night slightly dipped his head as he petted Chica's fur, her tail wagging happily.

Mark went to the front door and let the two officers in his home. "Is that Night?" "Yes, though he's informed us that he didn't want to talk to the police." One officer cocked a brow. "What was his reason for that?" Mark shook his head. "He didn't say." The other officer took a few steps towards Night before Mark calmly stated, "I would appreciate it if you please left Night alone." "I just want to get some details from him directly." Mark walked back to the table where one of his home phones was on and grabbed the notepad that Night had used. "You want details? This is everything he wrote about what happened; I've also collected DNA samples that I have in the fridge for you as well." "Why do you have them?" "Because Night asked me to collect them; I also took pictures of all his injuries and have copies of them already printed out." The cops looked at Mark with suspicion. "Night has already been through enough and I will not force him to do or go through something he clearly does not want to. I'll hand over everything he asked me to collect; just leave him alone." One of the officers was about to speak--their partner looking at Night on the couch--when Mark felt Dark push forward in his mind, his eyes having a veil of black thrown over them for a moment, stilling and silencing the officer.

"...Very well. We'll take what you've gathered and keep you updated on the case." "Thank you." Mark spoke as Dark handed back control, going to the fridge and getting the samples; he also grabbed the small stack of photos off the table the notepad was on as well and gave it all to the police, escorting them out of his home once he signed the paperwork for them to take the evidence. It was only after the front door was shut that Night moved. He reached out and took a hold of the spoon, filling it with the soup that was cool enough to eat without burning his tongue, and let out a little moan. Having not eaten anything for nearly two weeks, the soup tasted like pure heaven, wanting to scarf it down, but having the restraint not to. Mark came back into the room and a smile graced his lips as he saw the younger finally eating. "Do you like it?" Night nodded his head, still not looking at the other men, but none of them really minded. Night went slow, but he had three bowls before he finally felt sated, the stomach cramps he was dreading not coming up.

Chica glanced up to Mark went he approached and Night kept his eyes on her, still uncomfortable in the new environment. "Did you want to get some rest?" It was only 3 in the afternoon at this point, but Mark could clearly see the fatigue in the youth's body and face. Fenice, after a long moment, nodded his head. "I...would like that, but...where would I be sleeping?" Mark thought about it. Where would he be sleeping? It's not like he could just leave him alone without someone watching him and Jack and the others already had plans to get food for the night's dinner after they hit up the movies. "...Would you be comfortable sleeping in my bed? I need to work on some stuff so you won't be alone." Night swallowed. Could he really trust Mark? Don't get him wrong, he can tell that Mark is genuinely concerned for him and his well being, but he can't tell if there's a hidden agenda behind his kindness. "...I...I guess I could." Mark offered him another smile, slowly reaching up to cup his cheek in his large, warm palm.

Night tried to keep the panic off his face; if Mark did have some other reason for being this kind, Night knows he's gonna be blindsided by it. This kind of...gentleness...is not something he's experienced in a very long time. "We'll be back as soon as we can, Mark." "No, no, Jack. It's okay. You guys take your time, enjoy the movie." "But--" "Sean," Mark chipped, cutting the other off, "I can handle this. Trust me; I'll call you guys if I need you, alright?" After a moment, Jack sighed in defeat. "Alright." Jack padded over to stand next to Mark, giving the other a gentle grin. "Sleep good, okay? We'll see you in a little bit." Night nodded his head, his eyes falling off Mark and landing back on Chica. The retriever nudged her head against Night's arm and he petted her, a faint smile on his lips. "Come on, Kiddo." They waited until Mark had lead the younger upstairs before they left.

"You don't have to get undressed if that makes you uncomfortable; all I ask is that you take off your shoes." Night nodded, toeing off said item before climbing into Mark's bed, moving until his back was pressed against the wall before he closed his eyes and started to relax; Mark noticed that his guard went down more once he was at his computer.  _God...What even happened to Night to make him so fearful?_   ** _It's nothing good. That much I can tell you._** Mark sighed under his breath at Dark's words.  _How much of his past can you figure out from what you've seen so far?_ Mark's always been un-nerved by the abilities and powers Darkiplier has. Even more so when they're extremely detailed descriptions of people's memories.  ** _...Mark, I can say only this: there is nothing that I can see._**

What?

 _But...I thought--_ ** _You aren't wrong. The problem is his guard; yes, the guard that you see is down slightly, but the walls in his mind are so strong not even I can see past them. He's so traumatized that I doubt he'll trust you for a long time._** Well, that wasn't good news at all. Mark released a breath. There wasn't anything he could do now. Instead, after editing a video for an hour, Mark got his recording programs set up, did a quick little warm up for his voice, and then hit record.


End file.
